Yours, Hermione
by Celithravien
Summary: Just a little letter Ginny finds one day in her bedroom... Second Chapter: A letter by Ginny!
1. The first letter

You were my first love. I'm sorry to state it so matter-of-factly, but that's how it is. There's nothing pathetic about it.I can very well remember the first day I really saw you. Of course I didn't knew then, I loved you. I didn't realize I was in love when I declared moon silver a colour. For me the world was enchanted and I liked that. But I never thought about loving you. Friendship was the magic word at that time. But how fast it changed, when you told me with your extraordinary voice I was much too friendly to you.

I don't remember my answer; it's not of any importance now. It struck me strange, I never thought that something like that could happen to me. But how should I deny it? The little doubt left so fast!

But this notion only made things worse. I could never be loved by you. I had your friendship and compassion - nothing more or less. But as little as I could stop falling in love with you I could stop it. Everyday I realized more how much I loved your voice, your style, your thoughts and ideas, your way to walk and laugh and touch me. And yes, you touched me. After all we were good friends. And good friends embrace. But do they also stand motionless on the beach embracing each other and holding their hands? Probably they do, and probably no one falls in love because of that. Probably I'm just queer and strange.

How much I wanted you to love me! How much I still do!

And how much I hated those you loved. I counted them, my dear. I asked me what they had and

what I didn't have. I have a distinct assumption, but you wouldn't believe me... No, you never did. You never undestood me and you never will. You don't know how painful it is to be near you and hear you speak of those, you love. And yet, I can't let you go. Never ever.

I'm sorry for everything. Let's handle it as a matter of fact, it's nothing more.

Freitag, 10. September 2004

21.56 Uhr


	2. Return

You were my first love. I'm sorry to state it so matter-of-factly, but that's how it is. There's nothing pathetic about it.I can very well remember the first day I really saw you. Of course I didn't knew then, I loved you. I didn't realize I was in love when I declared moon silver a colour. For me the world was enchanted and I liked that. But I never thought about loving you. Friendship was the magic word at that time. But how fast it changed, when you told me with your extraordinary voice I was much too friendly to you.

I don't remember my answer; it's not of any importance now. It struck me strange, I never thought that something like that could happen to me. But how should I deny it? The little doubt left so fast!

But this notion only made things worse. I could never be loved by you. I had your friendship and compassion - nothing more or less. But as little as I could stop falling in love with you I could stop it. Everyday I realized more how much I loved your voice, your style, your thoughts and ideas, your way to walk and laugh and touch me. And yes, you touched me. After all we were good friends. And good friends embrace. But do they also stand motionless on the beach embracing each other and holding their hands? Probably they do, and probably no one falls in love because of that. Probably I'm just queer and strange.

How much I wanted you to love me! How much I still do!

And how much I hated those you loved. I counted them, my dear. I asked me what they had and

what I didn't have. I have a distinct assumption, but you wouldn't believe me... No, you never did. You never undestood me and you never will. You don't know how painful it is to be near you and hear you speak of those, you love. And yet, I can't let you go. Never ever.

I'm sorry for everything. Let's handle it as a matter of fact, it's nothing more.

Freitag, 10. September 2004

21.56 Uhr

Dear Hermione.

It took me a long time to answer your letter. I'm certain you understand, why.

I don't really know what to say now.

It's a long time ago, I told you, you meant very much to me, but yet were too nice to me. I thought everything was clear then and I never imagined any move of me could still hurt you or let you hope for more.

I don't blame you for anything. I have neither reason nor right to do so.

Somehow this should be all I could tell you, but there is still something I need to tell you thought I can't yet really tell what it is.

Perhaps a love dies harder, if it is not responded. I don't know.

I told you, I wouldn't have any problem with loving a woman, if I loved her. I'm so sorry I can't give you, what you want. Honestly. No one deserves happiness more than you. But any relationship would only end with me hurting you much more. That's something I'm sure about. You could brew me a love-potion... No, that's something you wouldn't do.

If I can help you in any way, just tell me. There's nothing I wouldn't do for you. I respect you as the most honest and intelligent person I ever knew.

But the simple fact is: I don't love you. Anything that made you believe the opposite was most unconsciously done.

Yours, Ginny


End file.
